


Innocence Dying In So Many Ways

by Telesilla



Series: This Is My Kingdom Come [7]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Begging, Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Hand Jobs, Kink Bingo 2013, M/M, Sex Toys, chiaroscuro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You can tell me you don't want to or you can tell me you do want to; you can beg me to stop or beg me to keep going. But, I'm the one who decides what you can and can't do. Got it?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence Dying In So Many Ways

**Author's Note:**

> As always in this series, this is fucked up and very dub con.

_August 5, 2012_  
 _@ Rockies_  
 _W 8-3_

 

Madison feels completely disgusting when he wakes up. He's itchy as fuck and the fact that it's dried come is really pretty gross. His ass hurts too, but not as much as he'd expected. It's still enough to remind him, if he needed reminding--which he doesn't--that Posey beat him last night. With his belt. Five fucking times.

In the bathroom, Madison turns until he can kind of see his ass in the mirror. He's not sure what he expected, but there's one spot that's a little red, like maybe it might bruise up a bit, but that's the only visible sign. Posey, Madison thinks as he turns on the shower, could probably beat him a lot more without leaving any major marks.

The shower feels fantastic, even though Madison has to work around the chastity thing a little to make sure he gets his dick clean. One more thing he's going to get used to, he thinks.

When Madison steps out of the shower, he smells coffee again. 

Fuck.

_Can't he give me a break? It's a fucking day game and then we're on a plane to St. Louis._

Just like yesterday, Posey's lounging on Madison's bed. He's turning the Sharpie over and over in his fingers and Madison stares at him nervously. Is he in trouble? Is there something he's supposed to....

Oh, right. Madison pulls of the towel he's got wrapped around his waist and tosses it back toward the bathroom.

"Good boy," Posey says. "Now come here. No, turn around."

It's pretty weird to stand with his back to Posey, but then Posey's running his hand over Madison's ass. He presses at the bruised spot and Madison jumps a little, but it's not enough to make him yell or anything like that.

"You'll live," Posey says. "Turn around again." When Posey runs a finger over the silicone thing, Madison feels his dick trying to get hard. It doesn't actually hurt, not yet, but it's not comfortable. "Should I leave this on you all day?"

Not sure if he should answer, Madison bites his lip. He won't pitch even if the game goes into really late into extras, but there's always a vague chance he'll have to go in as a pinch hitter and if that happens, he won't have time for Posey to take it off him.

"You're thinking about having to go into the game."

"Yeah."

"Hmmm...." Posey appears to be giving it some thought, but Madison's pretty sure Posey's thought the whole thing through. Posey always has a game plan.

"Do you want me to take it off?"

"Yeah."

Posey just looks at him.

"Please," Madison says. When Posey doesn't say anything, Madison realizes he'll have to step it up. "Please, Buster. Please take it off me."

Madison's got that feeling again, the one in his stomach, and what the fuck? He's turned on by _this_? What is wrong with him?

Posey pulls his keys out of his pocket and then sits on the edge of the bed. Madison waits but Posey just looks up at him. "You need to be a little more convincing."

And just like that, Madison knows what Posey wants. Madison doesn't want to do it, doesn't know if he can, but then it's almost like he's watching someone else as he goes down on his knees. "Please take it off me, Buster. Please unlock it."

"Do you know why I put it on you?"

"Yes, Buster," Madison says.

"Well?" Posey pauses. "Say all of it this time."

Jesus, Posey remembers that Madison couldn't say it yesterday?

"Because I can only come when you want me to." Madison's face is burning and now his dick does hurt a little.

"I want you to learn that," Posey says. "That's part of the training. When I'm done with you, you'll only come when I tell you to even without that thing locked on your dick. You'll go days, whole weeks even, and you'll be desperate for it and I'll make you wait." Posey leans down and rests his hand on Madison's neck and it takes all of Madison's willpower to not lean into the touch. "I'll make you _beg_."

They stay like that for a moment. Madison's sure Posey can feel his pulse hammering under Posey's light grip.

"You'll get hard as soon as I take it off, won't you?"

Madison nods.

"You like being on your knees," Posey says. "You belong down there and you like it."

"No," Madison says, before he can stop himself. "No, I don't."

Posey pats his face lightly. "You keep telling yourself that, boy." He looks down at Madison for another long, silent moment. "Now, I want your hand again and I want you to make an effort this time."

"I...don't know what to do. What you like."

"You know where to start though."

Reaching up, Madison carefully undoes Posey's belt and then his jeans. Posey's dick is already hard and even a little slick at the head, but Madison still reaches for the thing of lube Posey left on the nightstand yesterday.

"Here's what I want," Posey says once Madison's hand is slippery with lube. "I want you to do it like you want to get me off, not like it's an obligation. Like it's important for you to make me feel good. Because you know what, boy?" Posey leans forward and looks right into Madison's eyes. "It is. Right now, getting me off should be the only thing that matters to you."

Fuck, how's Madison supposed to do that when the only thing that matters here is getting away from Posey as soon as he can? He licks his lips and then slides his hand up the shaft of Posey's dick. Posey liked it when he twisted his hand yesterday, so he does it again. He's still pretty sure that's not enough and then, before he can stop himself, he looks up at Posey.

"Tell me, what....." he says and then pauses because that's probably not the right way to put it. One more thing he doesn't want to get used to--not just watching what he says, but how he says it. "I don't know what you want. Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Posey says. He reaches down and wraps his hand around Madison's. "Like this...a little more pressure...that's good." Posey takes a deep breath and then another. "Right here...that's where you need to twist your hand...that's right...." He pulls his hand away and Madison works to keep to the right motion. He learned how to throw a slider after all; this shouldn't be beyond him.

Posey's breathing is picking up a little and Madison remembers being told to speed things up yesterday. He does so, cautiously, and Posey looks down again. "You've got the prettiest hands...been looking forward to seeing them on my dick." He pauses and yeah, he's a little breathless. That shouldn't make Madison feel good, but it does. "That's right...."

Just like yesterday, Posey leans onto his hands and tilts his head back. Madison wonders why he doesn't let people see his face when he comes. And then he wonders why he cares. He does, though. He wants to see Posey lose it just a little, wants to see that what he's doing has some kind of impact on Posey.

Posey's voice echoes in his head-- _getting me off should be the only thing that matters to you._

Madison's not sure how he gets through it; his head's so fucked up right now. But apparently, he's doing something right because after another moment, Posey mutters something Madison can't hear and comes all over Madison's hand.

After he's cleaned things up with a handful of tissues, Posey sits back up again. "Pretty soon," he says, his voice steady again. "You'll use your mouth after."

When Madison looks at the floor and doesn't say anything, Posey laughs a little. "You really don't want to, do you?" Not sure what to say, Madison decides he's better off getting in trouble for silence than for saying the wrong thing. "You realize I don't give a damn, right? That I don't care if you like it or not?"

"Yes, Buster." It's the safest thing Madison can think of to say and apparently it's the right thing to say.

"Good," Posey says, as he zips up his jeans. "Now, do you think I should unlock you? Do you think you deserve it?"

This time Madison does know what to say. "It's up to you."

"Damn right it is." Posey glances at the clock. "Are you already packed?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, stand up." As Posey unlocks the chastity thing, he says, "here's what we're going to do. After the game, once we're ready to go, come and find me. You're going to ask me to put this back on your and...." He holds up a finger. "And, you're going to ask me to put a plug in you."

Madison stares down at him in shock. "I...yes, Buster." He's getting hard and he's not sure if it's just that his dick is finally free of that thing or if it's the idea of asking Posey to do those things to him.

"Also, no getting off this morning." Posey flicks his finger against Madison's dick hard and then does it again when Madison yelps. "Funny how I can do that and you stay hard. Happened when I beat you too." He slaps Madison this time, a couple of quick blows to Madison's dick with the tips of his fingers that make Madison catch his breath.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Before Madison can answer, Posey does it again and then again.

Madison's actually blinking back tears when Posey abruptly stands up. "Goddamn, you're almost too easy to hurt." He stares at Madison for a moment before Madison realizes what Posey's waiting for.

Yet again, Madison tries to figure out the right wording for what he's got to say. "Thank you, Buster," he says after a moment. "For...for showing me what to do."

"Good boy," Posey says. He sounds almost distracted and he barely looks at Madison as he heads toward the door.

_What the hell?_

* * *

Posey's at first base, so Madison's not entirely surprised when Belt joins him at the rail. "How you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess." 

"Brandon told me you were pissed at me."

"Yeah, but...I dunno. I guess I know why you talked to Posey about me." Madison sighs. "I just...I don't even know what's happening. Or why me. I'm not even...."

"Yes you are. Gay, I mean."

"No I'm...."

"Don't give me that crap." In spite of his words, Belt sounds more amused than anything else. "You wouldn't have fooled around with me as much as you did if you just wanted to get off. In spite of what you want to believe, it's gay to have sex with a dude, even if it's just because he offers. You could have said no. You're a fucking ball player; even if you don't want to mess with gamer chicks, you can afford hookers."

"I've done it with hookers."

"All that means is that you're either bi at best or totally in denial. I'm guessing it's more denial than anything." He glances at Madison. "I mean, you're getting off on it, aren't you? Or is he not letting you do that yet?"

"Twice...well three times if you count what he did before he put that thing on my the other night."

"Let me guess, the next morning he had you jerk him off, right? He'd have wanted to see if you're any good at it."

"Yeah. And then, he...let me do it."

"Jesus, Bum, you're going to have to learn to talk about this stuff." Belt pauses and thinks for a moment. "Come to think of it, maybe not. Bet he loves it when you get all flustered."

Madison looks around, but no one's paying any attention to them.

"He gave me a choice between him taking something off the number he put on my back or getting off."

"Wait, what? He put a number on you? The first day? What the hell did you do?"

"He asked me if I thought there was anything wrong with kinky and I said that there was the way he does it."

"Holy fuck," Belt says, his eyes wide. "You're either brave or really fucking stupid. I'm going with stupid."

"Oh yeah, it's totally stupid," Madison snaps, trying hard to keep his voice down. "Because there's nothing wrong with him having me over his fucking lap or doing any of the rest of it when he knows I don't want it."

"Well yeah, but you didn't have to say anything." Belt pauses and stares at Madison. "Wait, you _pitched_ with a number on you?"

"Yeah. That's why I said I wanted to come instead of getting a lower number. We had to go over the reports and I would have been distracted."

"Yeah, I guess I can see that. So then he spanked you last night?"

"No." Madison shakes his head. "He used his belt."

"His belt? Damn, he's kind of rushing things."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't even do that to me the first time and he already knew I like it rough. I mean, he'd seen me when I'd been with Vogey."

Madison looks down the rail; Vogelsong's standing talking to Cain. "Vogey?"

"Man loves to use his fists," Belt says. "I'd like it more if he weren't so selfish. He doesn't care if you get off or not."

"Neither does Posey." Madison stares at Belt. Vogelsong? He does stuff like this too? "But why would you let Vogey...."

"I'm a masochist, you dumb fuck. Posey's not the first guy to beat the hell out of me." Belt looks over into right field and smiles a little. "And he's not the last either."

He turns back to Madison. "And you're wrong. Posey cares if you get off; as long as it's on his terms."

"I guess."

"So he let you jack off the other morning, right?" When Madison nods, Belt goes on. "And what happened after he beat you?"

"He um...jerked off. On me."

"Mmmmmm, yeah. Then what?"

"He used his fingers to fuck me," Madison mumbles, his face hot. "And I got in trouble when I came." 

"Why? Oh let me guess, you didn't ask first."

"Yeah. But what makes you think he cares if you like it?"

"Didn't say that. I said he cares if you get off."

Madison's not sure what the difference is, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Belt's right.

"I don't know if...." Jesus, he's not going to cry again is he? "I can't do this."

"Yeah you can," Belt says. "Tell me something: how's it feel when he lets you come?"

"Like I'm breaking apart," Madison says, before he can censor himself.

"Best it's ever been, right?"

Technically. Belt's right, but Madison's not sure if he likes breaking apart. "I guess."

"Trust me," Belt says with a little smile. "It gets even better."

If it gets any "better," Madison thinks, he might actually shatter beyond the ability to put himself back together again.

* * *

They win, a nice definitive win that puts everyone in a good mood. Well, almost everyone; Madison's nerves start to twist up round about the 8th inning. He's not sure how he makes it through the handshake line and then the wait while Posey showers. Finally, as people are packing up their stuff up, Madison walks over to Posey's locker.

"Yeah?" Posey asks, his eyebrow raised.

What an asshole, Madison thinks. Posey knows damn well why Madison's talking to him but of course, he's going to make Madison feel like a fool.

Surprisingly enough, the anger helps; when he speaks, his voice is low but steady. "Please, Buster. Please put the chastity thing on me."

"And?"

"And the butt plug." Madison's face feels like it's burning up but he's still more angry than anything else. "Please."

"You really don't want it."

"You know I don't," Madison says. "I don't want any of this. But you told me to ask, so I'm asking."

Posey jerks his head toward the bathroom and Madison follows him. Everyone's looking--he can feel their eyes on him--but he keeps his back straight. Fuck them, he thinks.

"Drop your pants," Posey says as soon as the door closes behind them.

Once he's locked the chastity device on Madison's dick, Posey steps back and looks at him. "I need to put you in one of the metal ones sometime. It'd look good on you."

Madison can't help a wince--the silicon one is bad enough. The wince, of course, is a mistake. "Yeah, once we're home...remind me, will ya?"

"Yeah," Madison says through gritted teeth.

Posey just laughs and then says, "turn around and bend over."

Madison braces himself on the sink and waits. He can see Posey in the mirror but he still jumps when Posey's fingers, slick and cold with lube, push into him. It burns--Posey's not being gentle--and Madison wonders if he can do something, like....

Yeah no. Posey would just know, somehow, that Madison was practising and he'd probably think it was funny or throw it in Madison's face.

Posey twists his fingers hard and Madison can't hold back a little grunt of pain. "Stay with me. You don't get to go anywhere else, got it?"

"Yeah," Madison says.

"Okay, this is how this works." Posey pushes something--the butt plug, Madison assumes--up against his hole. "When I do something like this, you spread your legs and take it. If I hold still, you push back and take it."

"I...."

"Don't you fucking tell me you can't." Posey reaches up and slaps the back of Madison's head. When Madison looks up at the mirror, he meets Posey's narrowed eyes. "You can tell me you don't want to or you can tell me you do want to; you can beg me to stop or beg me to keep going. But," he pauses and smacks Madison again. "I'm the one who decides what you can and can't do. Got it?"

"Yeah." Posey's still glaring at him. "Yes, Buster."

"Now spread your fucking legs as much as you can or so help me God, I'll make you take your jeans off and do this bareassed."

Swallowing hard, Madison gets his legs apart as far as they'll go. "Good boy," Posey says.

"Ow, fuck!" The plug hurts going in--of course it does. Madison sneaks another look at Posey in the mirror; Posey's smiling just a little. "Fuck...don't," Madison says and Posey smiles a little more and gives the plug one last shove. Madison's still breathing hard when Posey pats him on the ass.

"Thank you, Buster," Madison says.

"Now pull your damn pants up." As Madison does, Posey steps back and watches him. "I might have to fuck you sooner rather than later," he says. "Because I do love the way you sound when you're hurting."

"Please," Madison says, before he can stop himself. "Please don't. I know it's up to you, but please...at least not until we get home."

"Hmmm...." Posey leans against a stall door and looks at Madison. "I'll make you a deal."

Madison's shoulders tense up but he turns and looks at Posey.

"Tonight when we get to St. Louis, you're going to come into my room, get on your knees, jack me and then ask me to come on your face." Madison's stomach does that thing again but he nods. Posey pauses and then smiles that tight little smile again. "Can you do that, boy?"

"I...." Madison stops and thinks about what Posey said earlier. "I don't want to," he says. "But if you say I can, then, I guess I can."

"Jesus," Posey mutters. He reaches out, shoves at Madison until Madison's bent over the sink again. "Feel that," Posey says, grinding up against Madison's ass.

"Yeah," Madison says, because of course he can feel it--the hard length of Posey's dick--even though both his and Posey's jeans.

Posey grinds up him again and then steps back. "All over your fucking face."

* * *

No one says anything on the plane ride. Well, not about Madison and Posey's trip to the bathroom. Madison can hear Posey talking quietly to Pence, but to be honest, that's one conversation he'd rather not listen in on.

Given that he's got a fucking butt plug up his ass, he doesn't expect to be able to relax, but to his surprise, he nods off.

He wakes up as they begin the descent into St. Louis and at first he can't figure out why his dick hurts. When he does, he winces a little; even though the butt plug's really uncomfortable, he's trying to get hard. Or maybe because he's uncomfortable. He doesn't even know any more.

Once he's got his stuff in his room, he looks around almost helplessly. If he doesn't go down the hall to Posey's room soon...well, he doesn't know what will happen, but it won't be good.

"Oh hey," Posey says as he answers his door.

For a moment, it's all so familiar--like it was down in the minors when they were friends. "Were we?"

"Were we what?"

"Oh sorry, just thinking out loud."

"Were we what?" Posey says again as the door closes behind Madison.

Madison thinks about making something up, but fuck it; he really does want to know.

"Friends," he says and wow, his eyes burn a little. "I was just thinking of San Jose and Fresno."

To Madison's surprise, Posey looks away. When he speaks, his voice is thick with scorn. "Is that what you want? To be my friend?"

"You've made it pretty clear that what I want isn't important," Madison says. Then, before Posey can say anything else, he takes a deep breath. "Where do you want me?"

"I want you on your fucking hands and knees," Posey says. He turns and walks further into the room. "And I want you to fucking crawl in here and say what you came to say."

Posey hadn't said anything about crawling earlier, but oddly enough, as Madison goes down onto his hands and knees, he's not surprised. Deeply embarrassed and not sure he can do this, but not surprised. He stares at the floor and remembers what Posey said, back in the bathroom at Coors--how it's up to Posey to decide what Madison can and can't do. So, Madison supposes, he can do this. It shouldn't help, but it does.

"Any time," Posey says.

With another deep breath, Madison starts to crawl. One hand after another, he thinks. One knee after another. Somehow, he does it; it seems like it takes hours, but eventually he can see Posey's shoes in front of him. He's not sure if he should stay down like this, but when he gets up onto his knees, Posey doesn't say anything.

Opening his mouth and getting the words out is even harder than crawling.

"Please," he says and then stalls out.

"Well...."

How do you ask to jerk someone off? "Please," Madison says again. "Please let me...touch you." It's not what he intended to say, but to his surprise, he hears Posey catch his breath.

"Yeah," Posey says, his voice just a little husky. "Do it."

Maybe Belt was right, Madison thinks as he reaches for Posey's belt. Maybe Posey gets off on Madison's...well, Madison doesn't think of himself as being particularly shy, but there are things it seems he just can't say.

It's been what? Three days? Feels like forever and it's weird how he's kinda, sorta, used to looking at Posey's dick. He reaches out and...oh shit.

"I'm sorry. I don't have any lube."

"Should have you slick me up with your fucking mouth." Posey still sounds angry. "Here," he adds, tossing one of those small bottles down at Madison. "I want you to have some on hand in case I don't have any on me when I need it. If you don't still have the stuff I gave you the other night, I'm sure there's a drugstore somewhere around here. And rubbers...always have a couple on you. Got it?"

"Yeah," Madison says. He shoves aside the thought of buying lube--because of course he left that bottle in Denver--and slicks up his hand.

Hoping he remembers what Posey likes, he wraps his hand around Posey's dick. Apparently he does, or at least enough that Posey doesn't feel the need to say anything. Madison glances up and this time, Posey's looking down at him, his eyes narrowed.

"Am I...um, is this okay?"

"I'm not sure," Posey says. "No, not that; don't stop. I'm just not sure if I should train you to be able to say shit or just leave you...."

"Flustered?" Madison says.

"Yeah," Posey says. "Flustered like this." Even though Posey's still able to string a sentence together, he's breathing a little harder now; Madison speeds up. He's looking down at his hand now because he's not sure why Posey's pissed off and, really, this is a lot easier without Posey glaring at him.

He's doing it right, he thinks as Posey breath starts hitching a little, so it's a little bit of a surprise when Posey's hand clamps down on his wrist. He looks up and Posey's cheeks are a little flushed, the way they get sometimes on the field. Posey smiles down at him, a tight little smile that's half sneer.

"Well?" When Madison stares at him in confusion, he sighs. "Seriously, you're such a dumb fuck. You're supposed to be asking me something right about now."

Oh. Right. God, he does _not_ want to do this. But even as he shakes his head in a no, the words are right there.

"Please," he says, his stomach in knots. "Please Buster...I...pleasecomeonmyface."

"Wow, you really don't want this, do you?" Buster shoves Madison's hand aside.

Right now, Madison has no idea what he wants. He wants his old life, he wants Posey to stop, he wants....he wants Posey to come.

"No...no, I don't, but you said...please."

"You better close your fucking eyes," Posey says, his voice rough. "Because Jesus...."

Madison closes his eyes, wondering if he'll ever get to see it. Wondering why he cares.

"Your mouth," Posey says and yeah, Madison can hear him jacking off. "Open your mouth, boy."

Before he can stop himself, Madison shakes his head again. No, he thinks and weirdly enough, it makes it easier. He doesn't want this but Posey doesn't care; Posey's gonna make him do it anyway. He gulps in a harsh breath and opens his mouth.

"Yeah," Posey says. "Fucking take it. Fucking...."

It's like the other night, something warm and wet on his skin, but this time, it's his fucking face. Buster fucking Posey is coming all over his face and Madison feels...feels too many things to even know where to start. Then some of it gets in his mouth and it's gross but he's licking his lips anyway and Posey's muttering "fuck" again and....

_Oh God, no, I'm not gonna cry again, am I?_

Maybe, maybe not, he thinks. Then he feels Posey's hand, gentle on his wet cheek. Is Posey petting him? "Open up again," Posey says, his fingers already pressing at Madison's lips. "Clean me off...slowly."

Blinking hard, Madison runs his tongue over Posey's fingers. Posey's fucking hands...somewhere along the way between San Jose and here, he started looking at Posey's hands even when Posey wasn't flashing signs. And wow, Madison really could have done without that revelation right now.

"I said slowly, but if you don't use your fucking tongue right now, we can wait an hour or two and I'll shove my dick in there until you fucking choke."

Madison goes back to licking Posey's fingers and God, come is fucking disgusting stuff. He wants to pull back, but since he can't, apparently he's going to start fucking crying again. His stomach is doing that thing again and his dick hurts because, fuck, he wants to come so bad right now. He's gonna beg; he knows it already.

Don't, he tells himself when Posey finally pulls his fingers away. Don't fucking beg.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Posey says. "I didn't even fucking hurt you."

"I know," Madison says. "I'm sorry...I really don't want to...to be...." His face is starting to itch and he reaches up and rubs at his cheek. "To be like this."

"What, crying and covered in come?" Posey rolls his eyes. "Get used to it."

Before Madison can say anything, before he can even figure out how he feels, Posey nudges his knees apart with the toe of his shoe. "How's your dick?" he asks.

"Hurts," Madison says. "Ow, fuck!" He stares down in shock--Posey's pressing his foot down right on top of Madison's dick, chastity thing and all. "Don't...please."

"Yeah, no," Posey says and does it again. Madison yells, this time not saying anything. "You'd be hard if you didn't have this thing on."

Madison doesn't say anything, which turns out to be a mistake. "Fucking answer me," Posey says. He taps his foot on Madison's dick again, softer this time, like a fucking warning or something.

"I don't know. I don't even know what's...."

"Finish that sentence."

"I don't know what's going on with me. Not anymore and I...I'm sorry. I know you said that you...what I can and can't do but...."

Suddenly Posey's on his knees in front of Madison. "Poor Maddy," he says, rubbing a thumb across Madison's cheek, right along a sticky tear track. "This is so hard for you."

And this is so fucking creepy because now it's so obvious Posey doesn't really feel sorry for him. He can tell--God only knows how--that Posey's totally getting off on this, maybe more than he did from the handjob.

"God, I want to fuck you right now," Buster says. "I wanna bend you over and fuck you until cry and beg."

Madison stares at him in shock and a little bit of anger. To his surprise his head clears a little. "You said you wouldn't. Not now."

Posey smiles at him and Madison's suddenly more frightened of him than he ever has been, even when Posey was watching him spit blood onto the shower floor back at Coors. Fuck, what if he went through all that and Posey was lying to him?

"Yeah well, if you didn't look so fucking scared, it'd be easier to wait." Posey rubs Madison's cheek again. "Look, if I make a deal with you like tonight; if I promise something, I'll keep that promise." He pauses. "That's what you get from me."

"Thank you, Buster," Madison says, meaning every word.

After a long moment of silence, Posey leans back a little. "You wanna come?"

"Please," Madison says. So much for not begging. "It hurts and I don't know why I want to, but please. Please, Buster."

"You want to because you're a fucking slut. I'd call you a goddamn whore, but to borrow a phrase, you give it to me for free. So, I guess you're just a slut. A flithy fucking slut all covered in come."

It's like once Madison's started, he can't stop even though Posey's words hurt almost as much as his foot on Madison's dick did a minute ago. "Please," he says. "Please, Buster....please."

"Shut up." Posey looks like he's thinking, but Madison's pretty sure he already knows exactly what he's going to do next. "Take your clothes off," he says, getting onto his feet.

Madison stands up too, feeling unbalanced and horribly fucking clumsy as he pulls his clothes off. Once Madison's naked, Posey steps closer and his big hands are warm on Madison's skin as he unlocks the chastity thing. The minute it's off, Madison's dick starts getting hard.

"Now," Posey says. "Here's what I want you to do. You're going to get down on your knees and you're going to tell me what you are. And if you get it right, I'll use my hand on you."

Going down on his knees is easy, well, easier than the other thing Posey wants. For just a second Madison wonders how high the number on his back would be if he said something about being a left handed, World Champion pitcher for the San Francisco Giants, originally out of Hickory, North Carolina. A number--any number--Madison thinks, might be easier than this.

Posey's tapping his finger on his thigh.

"Please," Madison says. "Because...because...." Maybe he doesn't want to come that bad.

"Because you came on me," he says, surprising himself.. "And because...." He's mumbling and he knows his accent's worse than usual. "Because, that makes me..what you said. A slut."

"Look at me," Posey says. "I didn't quite hear you."

Again there's a quick flash of anger, enough to get Madison's back up, at least a bit. Yeah, he was quiet, but he knows damn well Posey heard him. "Because I'm a slut," he says, his voice tight. What comes out next is another surprise. "You're doing this to me, making me...making me be like this."

Posey crouches down in front of him. "So you're saying I'm turning you into a slut? Making you my whore?"

That shouldn't sound so...so true. "Yeah," he says and God, he's so fucking hard and he gone from wanting to come to needing to come. How, he wonders somewhere in the back of his head, how did this happen so fast? "Please...I know it's up to you, but please?"

After a long moment, during which Madison tries not to squirm under Posey's gaze, Posey nods. "You know that stretch I do? Once I'm in my gear?"

"Which one?" Madison's confused, but Posey has to have a point here.

"Spread your legs," Posey says, pushing at Madison's knees. "And sit back on your heels...."

"Oh, that one." Madison sits back on his heels, legs spread and, yeah, there's that fucking thing going on where he doesn't want to do this, doesn't want to be like this, only he does. He thinks. Swallowing hard, he reaches back and rests his hands on his ankles. Because he doesn't spend half a game squatting behind home plate, he can feel the burn in his thighs.

"Good boy," Posey says. "Start stretching out like this. Only a minute or two a day at first; work up to it." He frowns. "I mean it; don't push it. If it's a strain or it messes with your mechanics, you fucking tell me, got it?"

"Yeah."

"Now," Posey says. One of his hands is still on one of Madison's knees and he leans on it and reaches for Madison's dick. Madison shudders a little even though Posey's moving his hand like he's...checking Madison's junk out or examining him or something. It's weird, but it's also someone's hand on his dick and right now that's enough.

"Huh...close, are you? Because I came on your face...because you're a slut who belongs on his knees in front of me."

Madison wants to say no, but how can he? Posey's right; he's so fucking close. He looks up and finds Posey staring at him. "Please, Buster. Please," Madison says, because fuck it, it's not like he has any fucking shame left.

"I'm gonna do this," Posey says, sliding his hand down and then back up again. He's not using lube and it's a little rough, but Madison's past caring. When Posey slides a thumb over the slick head, Madison shudders again. "Don't even." Posey glances at something and then looks back at Madison. "You've got to make it through two minutes and then I'm gonna tell you to come."

Madison closes his eyes and grits his teeth. He tries to go over his stats--all the stupid obscure ones--but he can barely remember his ERA and WHIP, never mind any of that other stuff. Posey's just going for it; a quick, rough stroke that has Madison gasping. It's just jerking off, it's not any different than what Madison does himself or what Belt used to do, but of course it is. Madison's so confused and he needs this so much and...god fucking dammit, he can't see the fucking clock.

He'll beat me, he tells himself, but all that does it make him remember how much it hurt and how good it felt after, when Posey fingered him. He'll come up with something I hate, he thinks, but he's hated every fucking thing Posey's done the last couple of days and here he is, aching and desperate.

"Please please please please," he mutters. "Oh God, please let me...please!"

"Open your eyes and look at me," Posey says.

When Madison does, it's just another twist to the knot in his stomach. "You don't want this, what I'm doing to you. You don't want to be my boy, my dirty slut."

Madson feels hot all over; like he's got a full body blush going on. "I don't...I...no...I don't...."

"Come for me," Buster says. "Right now."

Madison comes _hard_ and Posey keeps jacking him through it until Madison's shaking and dizzy and totally breathless. "God," he moans, swaying just a little on his knees. "Oh God...oh fuck."

"Sit," Posey says and for a minute Madison's not sure he can move, but his thigh muscles are really burning now. Finally, he sort of falls out of position, not caring how clumsy he looks.

"Now open your mouth again."

Blinking, Madison stares at Posey until Posey shoves his fingers against Madison's mouth like he did earlier. "Go on, lick your own come off my fingers."

It's still gross, but Madison can't bring himself to care. He feels weirdly floaty and he's not nearly as tightly wound as he was earlier. He can't concentrate on more than one thing, so he licks and sucks Posey's fingers until Posey finally pulls them away. "Your mouth's gonna feel so fucking good on my dick," he says, but Madison hardly registers his words.

They're still so close--Posey's right there, inches away from him--and Madison leans forward without even thinking about it. He doesn't really know what he wants, just some kind of contact, he thinks, but his mouth's open just a little and maybe....

The shove takes him completely by surprise and he almost ends up sprawled on the floor as Posey stands up. 

"Get up," Posey snaps as Madison stares at him in confusion. "Go in the bathroom and take the plug out. Wash it, but don't wash your face, and then get your fucking ass back in here."

Madison has no idea what just happened; his stomach's twisting again and he can't believe he kind of forgot about the butt plug. He's totally aware of it now as he scrambles to his feet and heads to the bathroom.

When he's done, he comes back into the bedroom and looks at Posey. He has no idea what to say, so he just stares at him for a moment before the words come. "Thank you," he says. Just before he says the rest of it, he thinks of something else that will, hopefully, put Posey in a marginally better mood. "Thank you for...for um...coming on me. And for letting me come."

Posey looks a little less annoyed as he comes up and locks that fucking _thing_ on Madison's dick.

"Don't wash your face until just before you go to bed," he says, running a finger over Madison's itchy right cheek.

"Yes, Buster." Madison not sure if he should ask, or what, but he's pretty sure the evening is over. He seems to be right; when he bends over and grabs his boxers, Posey just nods and heads toward the bathroom. 

"I'm sorry," Madison says.

"For what?"

Well shit....

"For making you angry."

"Not only are you stupid, but you're fucking blind." Posey pauses at the bathroom door, turning to look at Madison. "I'm always fucking angry. Now put your goddamn pants on and get your sorry ass out of my room."

 

* * *

_I'm always fucking angry._

How, Madison wonders, hours later as he tries to go to sleep. How the hell did he never notice that? But no, that's not true. He noticed. Down in the minors, they roomed together on the road. They lived across the hall from each other in that one crappy short term rental apartment building that was a step above living with a host family. They were, he'd thought at the time, friends.

If Madison wants to pretend he didn't realize that Posey had an anger problem, even back them, well, that's what it is. Pretending.

Because there are different levels of angry, but behind the calm, steady presence he shows the public, Posey's angry, in one way or another. He's been like that as long as Madison's known him and the trick has always been....

Madison sighs.

The trick has always been to be the guy Posey's least angry with. And in San Jose, in Fresno, Madison was that guy. Madison _wanted_ to be that guy. 

"What the fuck," he mutters as he rolls over and tries to get comfortable. "What the fuck is fucking wrong with me?"

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Darkrose for the beta help. The title is from "Hold On" by Kansas. This is for the begging square on my second 2013 (Round Six) King Bingo Card.


End file.
